Conversation and Cream of Wheat
by Kristen Elizabeth
Summary: Spoilers for 10x1, Family Affair. Over breakfast, Catherine and Sara discuss change. Companion piece to Croissant et Conversation.


Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me.

Author's Notes: This is a follow-up piece to my post-ep story "Croissant et Conversation." I got so inspired by all of your kind words that I had to write more. Thank you so much. Enjoy!!

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Conversation and Cream of Wheat

by Kristen Elizabeth

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The corners of the menu were soft and rounded from years of handling. The ring of a coffee stain covered almost all of a long list of available omelet ingredients. There wasn't a single item on the menu, save for a questionable fruit cup, that didn't have the power to clog arteries. And the only French thing was the toast.

Sara smiled. On some strange level, it was so good to be back at Frank's.

"Hey, sorry I'm late." Catherine slid into the seat across from Sara with a great rush of Chanel-scented air. "I had to drop Lindsey off at school."

Picking up the ginger ale she'd ordered while she was waiting, Sara took a small sip. "How is she?"

"Sixteen," Catherine said as if that was all the explanation necessary.

"Well, I'd love to see her while I'm here. You know, if that's okay with you."

"Why wouldn't it be?" After signaling the waitress for coffee, Catherine started shrugging out of her suit jacket. "She thinks of Gil as a crazy uncle. Which makes you her crazy aunt."

Sara coughed through another delicate sip of her drink. "Just what I always wanted to be when I grew up."

"You're drinking ginger ale?" Catherine noticed. "Don't tell me you've lost your stomach for bodies that have gone through a wood chipper."

"Must have," Sara murmured. Turning her attention back to her menu, she quickly changed the subject. "Do you think the fruit cup's gotten any better since the last time I tried it?"

"It's probably from the same produce shipment as last time."

Sara closed up her menu. "Cream of wheat it is, then."

Catherine arched an eyebrow. "You really do have a tender stomach. Either that or you're..."

The waitress appeared just then with Catherine's coffee, like an exhausted, under-tipped guardian angel. "What can I get you ladies today?"

"Cream of wheat," Sara told her. "And dry toast."

"I'll have an egg white omelet with spinach and mushrooms." Catherine thought for a second. "Screw that. Give me pancakes and bacon."

Sara bit back a smile as the waitress collected their menus and moved off. "Some things do change."

"Yeah, I'm starting to think I might just be too old to give a damn about staying a size six," Catherine said with a flip of her hair. "It's all downhill from here, right?"

"I don't know about that. Grissom has more than a few years on you and he's never looked better."

Stirring sugar into her coffee, Catherine smirked. "I think that has more to do with having sex on a regular basis because you're looking pretty good yourself. Much better than the last time I saw you."

Sara inclined her head, accepting the compliment. "A lot's changed since then."

"Sure. Marriage, Paris..." Catherine tilted her head to the side. "Anything else?"

Sara had just opened her mouth to reply when her cell suddenly rang. "I should take this," she apologized after checking to see who was calling.

It was Catherine's turn to smirk. "Tell him I said hi."

Once she was outside in the dusty, dry Nevada wind, Sara answered the phone. "Shouldn't you be in class, Dr. Grissom?"

Thousands of miles away in Paris, her husband replied, "We're on a break. I thought I'd call and hear all about your first day back."

"There's not a lot to tell," she lied. "Typical lab stuff." _If you didn't count the botched body-snatching and the ensuing gun fight..._

"Really? Because from what I gathered from Brass's email, you and Nick took it upon yourselves to engage a couple of armed intruders."

"Oh, yeah." Sara swallowed. "There was that, too."

Exactly ten seconds passed before Grissom spoke again, in a voice that was almost too calm. "Did you or did you not swear to take care of yourself while you were in Vegas?"

"In all fairness, baby, they started it."

"I don't care about fair," Grissom snapped. "What I care about is you and Jean-Luc!"

The corners of Sara's lips turned up. "You called him Jean-Luc."

"Sara, just...don't." She heard him inhale and exhale. "You want me to be more emotionally expressive? Here you go. I'm angry at you. I think I'm going to be angry at you for awhile."

"What was I supposed to do?" Sara argued. "Just let them get away?"

"Yes! Because whatever or whoever they took is not as important as your life, Sara! Nothing is more important than you and our baby. I shouldn't have to remind you of that!"

Glancing back inside, Sara saw Catherine intently watching her. Upon being caught, the older woman immediately looked away. "Look, this isn't a good time to have this fight. Can we talk later?"

"I don't know. Are you planning on dodging any more bullets today?"

"It's not on my agenda," she shot back. "But the day's just getting started. Now if you'll excuse me..."

"Honey." She felt her temper settle somewhat upon hearing the worry that replaced the fury in his voices. "If anything happened to you..."

Sara shook her head. "I can't do my job if I'm constantly trying not to worry you, Gil."

"How about you just agree to not deliberately put yourself in a dangerous situation?" Grissom paused. "Or you could come back to Paris and then I wouldn't have to worry."

"I don't think I can do that." She looked through the window at Catherine who was still pretending to be interested in her coffee. "They need me here."

After a moment of silence, Grissom sighed in defeat. "I'm still angry at you, Sara."

Sara nodded. "Yeah. I love you, too."

"Call me later."

"I will," she promised. "Bye."

Their breakfast had arrived when she returned after a quick stop at the restroom. Catherine looked up from her pancakes as Sara slid into the booth. "Everything okay?"

"Brass told him about the lab incident." Sara scowled. "Remind me to get Jim back for that before I leave."

"Sure thing." Forking up a bite, Catherine studied Sara with a critical eye. "You were going to tell me something just before he called."

"Was I?" After a few seconds of contemplating the pale mass of creamed wheat sitting in front of her, Sara pushed the bowl away and reached for her ginger ale. "I can't imagine that you haven't already figured it out, Cath."

A slight widening of her eyes was the only indication of Catherine's surprise at having her suspicion confirmed. "How far along are you?"

"Eight weeks." Sara smiled weakly. "The nausea goes away eventually, right?"

"Eventually." If Sara hadn't known better, she would have sworn Catherine looked almost wistful. "Congratulations. I really mean it."

"I know. Thank you." Sara cleared her throat, breaking the moment. "Still...no jokes about Grissom's virility?"

Catherine snorted. "Like I have doubts on that front. I'm just glad the man isn't promiscuous. He'd probably have baby mamas all over Nevada and southern California."

Sara laughed in spite of her rolling stomach. "I'll be sure to pass on the compliment."

"He can't be too happy with you right now, knowing about what you and Nick did."

"He's not." Sara lifted her shoulder. "Marriage isn't always bliss."

"Oh, preach it to the choir, sister."

Setting down her glass, Sara folded her arms over her stomach. "It was stupid of me. I know that now." She hesitated. "I haven't completely wrapped my head around the idea that I'm pregnant. I'm still trying to adjust to this." She held up her left hand, her ring gleaming in the morning sunlight. "I wasn't thinking like a mother earlier. It didn't even occur to me not to follow Nick."

"Sara, you've got seven more months to figure out what thinking like a mom is for you. And although it's probably not politically correct to say this, it's not the same for every woman. Some people baby-proof their houses the minute the pink plus sign appears and stop drinking coffee cold turkey." Catherine bit into her bacon. "For me, thinking like a mom was trying to figure out how long I could keep dancing on the side for extra cash before anyone noticed my belly." She offered Sara a supportive smile. "I have a feeling you'll fall somewhere between the two."

"And that's normal?"

"Since when do you care about being normal?"

"Since the pink plus sign appeared."

Catherine shook her head in amusement. "Oh, I would have given anything to see Gil's face when it did."

The memory made Sara smile softly. "He couldn't stop staring at my stomach. Not like he didn't believe it, but more like he was just...amazed. After that, he went online and ordered three of the top-rated parenting books from Amazon and had them shipped overnight."

Catherine's smile was suddenly sad. "That sounds like him. He's going to be a wonderful father."

Sara nodded in agreement. A few minutes passed in silence as Catherine picked at her pancakes and Sara nibbled the corner of one piece of toast. Finally, the older woman tossed down her fork. "Still the worst breakfast in town."

"But it beats red currant jelly any day," Sara said.

"I don't get it."

"Never mind." The waitress swung by just long enough to drop off their check. "Let me," Sara said, reaching for the slip of paper.

Catherine snatched it away. "No, this one's my treat. You save your pennies. Babies are expensive in any foreign currency."

Almost too softly to be heard, Sara murmured, "I'm married and I'm pregnant, Catherine."

"Yeah." Reaching out, Catherine covered Sara's hand with her own. "And Grissom's responsible for both."

Sara looked her in the eye, a silent challenge. "Crazy, right?"

"No. It was meant to be." Catherine stood up with the check. "See you tonight?"

"Me and Jean-Luc," Sara confirmed.

"Oh, Sara...no. Just...no." With that, Catherine departed just as she'd arrived, with sweep of air and the lingering scent of perfume, leaving Sara to her cold cream of wheat.

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Fin


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